


As the Rush Comes

by iammemyself



Series: Arkhamverse [18]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: ArkhamVerse, Gen, Programmer Dad, Riddlerbots - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 19:39:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11111454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iammemyself/pseuds/iammemyself
Summary: The day comes when Edward has to leave to take care of the culmination of all of their months of work, and Alan knows he shouldn’t be going alone.





	As the Rush Comes

As the Rush Comes

By Indiana

 

**Characters: Edward Nygma, Alan, Ada, Nikola (Riddlerbot OCs)**

**Synopsis: The day comes when Edward has to leave to take care of the culmination of all of their months of work, and Alan knows he shouldn’t be going alone.**             

 

 

 

Alan had looked everywhere, and there was only one place he hadn't checked.  He hoped his dad was there most of all anyway; he just never bothered to _hope_ he was there. 

 _Dad?_ he asked, looking around the doorjamb of his dad’s room.  His dad was laying back against the headboard of his bed, eyes closed and his glasses still on.  He was holding a glass of something Alan couldn't see in his lap so he didn't think his dad was asleep.  Sure enough his dad looked over at him, which he wouldn't have done if he were sleeping.

"Alan.  Come in."

Alan did so, walking over to climb into the bed next to his dad.  Inside the glass was a couple of ounces of some green liquid.  _What is that?_ he asked.

"Just something to help me sleep," his dad answered.  "You know I haven't slept much this past week. Tomorrow's the day, Alan.”

 _It's alcohol, then_ , Alan said, and his dad nodded.

"Just a little.  I know full well were it to be more I would become every bit the angry drunk my father was."  He sounded a little bitter, and Alan wished he hadn't said anything.

_And then you're going to get a new job, right?_

His dad took a long drink from his glass and said, "That's the plan.  I have many things to arrange first."

_And I can come?_

His dad put one arm behind his shoulders.  "I hope you do."

 _I’ll find something to do_ , Alan promised.  He hoped his dad wouldn’t move his arm anytime soon.  He liked it there.  _I’ll take care of that._

“I’m sure you will,” his dad said, somehow mostly to himself. 

If anything, Alan would be doing his best to protect his dad from Jonathan.  Jonathan did not appreciate him, nor did he give him the respect he deserved.  Alan still had not figured out just yet what it was about love that made his dad able to overlook that, and to accept Jonathan’s seemingly reluctant attention as being more important than anyone else’s.  If Jonathan _really_ cared about him, he would visit more often, and _not_ just when he wasn’t feeling well or when he wanted his dad to do some work for him.    

"Alan," his dad said quietly, breaking into his thoughts, "I need to tell you something."

 _What?_   It sounded oddly foreboding.  Maybe it was one of those things his dad didn’t really want to say.

"You're the best mistake I ever made."

Alan knew his dad considered himself to have made a lot of mistakes, but Alan didn't really think he had.  He made some odd decisions, sure, but mistakes?  Alan didn't think so.

 _You're the best mistake_ your _dad ever made._

Abruptly his dad looked away, removing his arm from behind Alan.  "Is… is that so.”

 _Yes_. 

His dad was strangely quiet and still after he said that.  He also seemed to be holding onto his glass a little too hard; Alan could tell by the whiteness beneath his fingernails.  Alan leaned forward, confused.  He didn’t _think_ what he’d said would provoke such a reaction -

When he had bent over far enough that he could see his dad’s face, Alan realised with an internal jolt of guilt that he had made his dad cry.  Just a little, but even _that_ was too much.  He pressed his hands together in anxiety.  Why was he sad?  Hadn’t Alan said a _nice_ thing?  He was _sure_ he had.  Oh, there was just too much he didn’t understand!

_Dad -_

"You don't have to _look_ ," his dad snapped.  Alan didn't know what he meant by that until it occurred to him his dad was embarrassed about it.  He sat back again and tried to think of what he should say.

_You can cry if you want, Dad.  It's okay._

"I am _not_ ," his dad said, but he followed this statement up with a defensive clenching of his arm to his waist.  Two fingers of his other hand were drumming the rim of the glass in his lap.  This was only further evidence that he was, and that his dad felt ashamed of it, but Alan was still confused regardless.

_Are you sure?_

His dad wiped underneath his eyes with two fingers.  "Perhaps somewhat."

Alan decided the best course of action in that case was to hug his dad - but not too hard - and when his dad put the arm closest around Alan again he felt better for having made him cry.  He hadn't meant to; he had just wanted to be nice!  But then again, his dad often did get upset when Alan was nice to him.

After a minute Alan said, _I know you would have preferred your dad said -_

"If he had, it would have been a lie," his dad interrupted. 

Alan thought about that one for a moment.  No, he wouldn’t have wanted his dad to lie to him about something like that. 

Alan didn’t realise until ten minutes later that his dad had fallen asleep, and only because he noticed his dad’s head slump onto his shoulder a little.  Alan had liked sitting there quietly with him, but his dad _did_ need to sleep.  Alan still didn’t know exactly what went on when a person went to sleep; he’d never asked and it had never really come up in conversation.  He did know, though, that his dad would sleep better if he left.  He had gone through a few trials of this, and his dad seemed to sleep best if he had someone to play with his hair or if he was just left alone.  His dad tended to move around in his sleep if nobody was doing anything with his hair, and if Alan stayed he’d just be in the way.  He’d go find something else to do and check on his dad later.   He took his dad’s glasses and what was left of his drink and put them on the side table.  He noted there was also a plate there with some leftover crumbs on it, which surprised him.  The last time he’d seen evidence of his dad eating anything had been at least a week ago.  Maybe he really _would_ move on from this, once this mission was over.  It seemed he _did_ know that eating and sleeping deserved more time and attention than he gave them.

He left for two and a half hours, and when he came back his dad was lying on his stomach with his face pressed into the mattress.  Alan had never quite figured out how he kept breathing when he did that.  Come to think of it, his dad seemed to make breathing more difficult for himself all the time.  It didn’t make any sense.  He would have to think about that.  The answer was probably important.

He decided his dad probably was not going to finish the drink and brought it and the plate downstairs to clean them up.  He had gone and watched Ada for a while, but she didn’t need him because she was quite content to play with Nugget.  Nugget did not argue with anything she said and allowed her to do whatever she wanted, which Alan did not.  Well.  Sometimes he did.  But today he didn’t feel like it.

He carefully washed out the glass and the plate with the brush kept behind the sink, setting them down in the rack next to it to dry.  His dad had been a little confused – actually, he’d been hostile – when Alan had first started cleaning up after him.  Though he complained every time he noticed, Alan kept doing it anyway.  It had become evident early on that his dad preferred to do things himself, his own way, and took help as an insult.  Alan had been a little hurt by this, and sometimes still was, but he had come to accept it for the most part.  He didn’t know why his dad felt the need to be so fiercely independent, and it had never been the time to ask.  He put the brush back in the container and turned around.  He worked so hard for his dad and it mostly just seemed to come to nothing!  What if things _didn’t_ change once he was done this mission?  What if he just got _worse_?  What would Alan do then?

He already knew the answer to that.  He would be patient and he would do his best to help his dad out, because that was what a good son did.  Or at least, he _thought_ so.  He didn’t actually _know_ what a good son did.  He loved his dad.  He loved him more than anything.  But it didn’t make his bad days any easier.  Alan was starting to doubt that helping his dad was even the right thing to do.  Maybe he what he thought was helpful was just him allowing his dad to become worse.

He didn’t like that thought.  He decided to put a hold on all of that until this was over.  When it was over, he would decide what to do next.  No need to worry about it right now.      

Alan went back upstairs, not _intending_ to go back to his dad’s but rather to go look at the harbour out the window of the farthest room down the hall.  And he almost got there when he heard the phone ring, which was bad.  His dad _always_ woke up for the phone.  No!  Not now!  Not when his dad had taken care of himself just a little bit!

He went back down the hall as quickly as he could without running, but it was too late.  When he got there his dad already had the phone to his left ear, though he was still lying on his face.  He leaned up on his other arm a little and smeared his hand across his eyes, then said sharply, “What.”

By the way he immediately sat up and reached to the table for his glasses Alan knew it was Jonathan.  Jonathan was the only one he gave that much attention to.  He pressed his hand into a fist that was almost enough to overload the servos.  Of course.  The _last_ person on Earth Alan wanted his dad to hear from had called at the worst possible time.

“Fine!  Fine.  I’m going downstairs now.”  He stood up, idly flattening the collar of his shirt as he did so.  “No, I’m not there already!  Some of us have to _sleep_ , you know.”  He caught sight of Alan in the doorway and said, moving the phone away from his mouth but not his ear, “Alan.  Find Ada and Nikola, please.  Send Nikola down to the factory.”

 _Sure_ , Alan said as politely as he could, even though he wanted to do nothing less than find Jonathan and demand he let his dad go back to sleep, but his dad had been working towards this for a long time and wasn’t likely to do _that_ now he was up.  Alan folded his arms and walked downstairs to find the transponder.  He had no idea where Nikola was. 

The device was on his dad’s desk in the frontmost room of the Orphanage and it said that Nikola was already in the factory, though it didn’t give him enough information to know exactly what he was doing.  Hopefully he wouldn’t wander off before Alan was inevitably sent down there with Ada.

He told Ada to get Nugget down to the factory and then to come back, and she happily took Nugget’s hand and pulled him out of her house to do so.  Alan went back to his dad to find that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, knees spread and bent over his list.  And smoking.  Again. 

He gave his dad another minute with the stupid thing before he said, _Ada will be here soon.  She had to take Nugget down to the factory._   His dad looked up in one sudden movement; he hadn’t noticed Alan was there.  Well, he _had_ been pretty quiet. 

His dad nodded and pressed the cigarette into the ashtray on the side table even though he wasn’t finished with it.  “Thank you,” he said.  “I will tell you of the proceedings when she returns.”

When she did come in she ran right into his lap and he winced but didn’t remark on it, instead moving her into a presumably more comfortable position on his legs.  “Princess,” he told her, putting the list aside, “I’m sending you down to the factory with your brothers for a day or so.  I have something very important to do and you need to listen to whatever Alan tells you.  He’s in charge while I’m gone.”

 _Where are you going?_ she asked, somewhat petulantly. 

“I’ll be here.  But you have to stay down there and I won’t be coming with you.”

 _I’ll miss you_ , Ada said, and she turned around and hugged him.  He hugged her as well, but something was… off about it.  He was looking off into the other side of the room, as though there were something there he needed to pay urgent attention to, but there wasn’t.  He was somehow both there and absent at the same time.

It was more frightening than it was bothersome.

 _Have fun!_ Ada said, when she relinquished his lap, and his smile at least was genuine.  He watched her run off and then looked to Alan.

“Let’s go,” he said.  “I’ll take you downstairs and then come back.”

That was a little odd – he obviously knew how to get there himself – but it was a minute or three alone with his dad.  He’d take it.

His dad didn’t say anything to him on the way there, not a word down the elevator that contained the mech nor during the walk into the tunnel joining the Orphanage to the factory, and Alan lacked peripheral vision so he couldn’t really try to sneak a glance at him to attempt a guess at what he was thinking.  His dad was not a person that stayed quiet for very long, so this was a little unnerving.

"Alan," his dad said, when they were about twenty feet from the factory entrance, "I need something from you.”

That did not sound good.

His dad knelt down on one knee in front of him, so that his arms were crossed over his forward leg, and Alan suddenly became very anxious.  "Son," his dad said, "I'm going to be gone for a while.  Probably only a day or so.  In the meantime, you're going to be in charge here."  He put one hand on Alan's shoulder.  "Make sure Ada and Nikola stay here at the factory.  You are not to let them leave nor to leave yourself.  Remain here until I return."

 _Where are you going?_   All of this sounded ominous.  Hadn’t he told Ada he would be at the Orphanage?  But his dad only smiled.

"To take care of the affairs all of our months of work have been leading up to, of course!  It won't take long."

It suddenly occurred to Alan that his dad had never really... _left_ before.  For a few hours, maybe, while he did things like buy food for himself or have meetings he wouldn't tell Alan about, but for a whole _day_?  Maybe more?  Alan twisted one of his thumbs.  _Dad, I should come with you._  

His dad was shaking his head.  "No.  You need to stay here.  You're the only one I trust to take care of things while I'm gone."  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded square of paper, which he offered to Alan.  "You know what to do.  But I wrote you a list in case you felt like you didn't."

Alan accepted the list, a little tremulously.  He _did_ know what to do, and he was happy his dad trusted him to do it... but he didn't want to.  He should be with his dad, helping him!  Not overseeing a bunch of robots who were too stupid to understand _why_ he had to supervise them!  _I really think I should come with you._

"You can't," his dad said.  "I need you here, Alan."

_Why can't I come with you?  John von Neumann can keep an eye on Nikola and Ada, and the others aren't likely to go outside their parameters.  Let me come.  I'll be better utilised that way, if that's what you're looking to do._

His dad looked down at the floor, folding his hands together across his knee. 

"Alan, when I come back I'll tell you.  But not right now.  Right now I need you to stay here and do as I've asked."

_I'd just rather come and help you then stay here and be useless._

“That’s not why you’re staying.”

No, Alan _knew_ why he was staying.  His dad was just trying to avoid it, and so was he.  _I’m staying because I’m supposed to be a mindless drone and you no longer have any use for me.  I can’t come with you because I’m not supposed to exist.  Now I’m supposed to unthinkingly sacrifice myself in your service._

His dad looked away from him for a moment and then stood up, steadying himself against the tunnel wall.  “Exactly.”

That hadn’t been the response Alan had expected.  He had expected coldness, anger; sadness, even!  It was something his dad could do that deeply disturbed Alan: surprise him.  Alan was good at calculating and predicting things, and analysing them to perfection, but his dad… his dad _changed_ all the time.

… _exactly?_

“If I were to take you with me, that’s all you would be.  A tool for my further use.  A robot.  I am telling you to go and be my son.  Be a brother.  You aren’t what you were supposed to be, that is true.  Well, the time has come where you need not remotely be so any longer.  There are certain flags in your programming that are influencing your decision here, Alan.  I will remove them when I return.” 

_No._

“No?”  He heard his dad’s phone vibrate, and his dad took it out of his pocket and looked at it.  He moved a step back down the tunnel.  “We will discuss this later.”

 _Dad, one minute!_   His dad couldn’t go yet!

“Alan – “

Alan ran over and hugged his dad as hard as he thought was safe.  He didn’t know where he was going, or why, or when he was coming back.  But he did know he had just done something stupid: picked a fight at exactly the wrong time.  His dad needed his support and nothing else.

His dad sighed and returned the hug with his free arm, though somewhat exasperatedly.  “Alan.  I have work to do.  I have been – _we_ have been – organising this for _months_.  Now _really_ is not the time for a heart-to-heart.”

 _I’m sorry_ , Alan said, nodding and stepping back.

“Fine.”  His dad waved a hand impatiently.  “Go to the factory until I return.”

Alan turned around to do so, until he realised neither of them had actually said goodbye.  When he looked behind him, his dad was already gone. 

Alan walked down to the factory entrance slowly.  He didn’t feel right.  He felt as though that should have gone differently, and as he ran through the permutations of the situation in his mind… they all told him the same thing.  Even in his most negative scenario, his dad still _at least_ told him goodbye.

For one second, Alan hated him.  Hated his dad for acting like this.  Alan spent _all_ of his time trying to make his life easier, to make him _happy_ , and what did he get for it?  Nothing.  He didn’t even get a goodbye before his dad ran off to do who knew what.  What was the point?  Why did he bother?  He wasn’t going to _go_ down to the factory.  He was going to open the Orphanage door and walk out into the city and never come back.  It would serve his dad right.  Whatever his dad had run off to do was, ultimately, more important than Alan.  He cared about it more than he did Alan.  Alan was not good enough, compared to whatever it was he was being compared to.  His dad’s obsession.

He was somehow less than something that was _hurting_ his dad.

He entered the factory anyway, even though he did not want to, and climbed up the wall to sit on the bridge where he could watch the robots below but still stay out of sight.  He wanted to be by himself but he did have a job to do.

Why bother doing it, though?  His dad didn’t care.  His dad only cared about _Jonathan_ and his _list_ and –

But that couldn’t be right.  His dad _did_ care about him.  He’d said so and he’d proven it more than once.  There was something Alan was missing, something that went along with being organic that Alan didn’t understand that, taken together, had caused his dad to act the way he just had.  Once he figured it out, he would be closer to _knowing_ his dad.  Having something to focus on allowed him to rationalise and move aside his anger.  He’d seen what happened when you allowed anger to control your actions.  You did things you regretted later.  He did not want to have regrets.  As upset as he was about what his dad had done, he would be more upset if he did something rash that his dad would not forgive.

All right, then.  What _was_ there?  What could explain his dad’s behaviour?  There had to be _some_ cause, Alan just had to work it through. 

The first thing that came to mind was the fact that his dad smoked constantly even though he _knew_ it was bad for him.  There was also the refusing to sleep when he was tired.  There was the fixation on the colour green, and the painting numbers on the wall – always the same numbers, too, always the digits of _pi_ or primes – and the frustration when his routines didn’t proceed properly.  Alan, logically, knew that all of these things didn’t make any sense; therefore, since his dad had built him this way his dad was also quite capable of logically understanding they didn’t make any sense.  He folded his hands together.  He was on the verge of something, here.

His dad had told him that he had once liked what he was doing.  He had admitted he’d been doing it for so long it was on the verge of destroying him.  But his dad was so smart!  Why would he do something like that if he _knew_ better?  Why did he do _any_ of the things he knew better than to do?

If Alan were to behave in such a way, it would mean his ability to reason would be compromised.  That was, there would be an error in –

He didn’t even want to think it.  It was the only thing that really made sense out of all of this, but he did not like it.  He really, really did not like it.

There was an error in his dad’s brain.

There was something caught in an endless loop in his mind, that caused him to do the same things over and over again for no real reason, for no real _result_ , and the longer it went on the worse it got.  His dad could not break the loop and so instead encouraged it, added more and more conditions to trap himself inside of it, and now he was stuck there.  It wasn’t that Alan was less, or that he hadn’t done enough, or that he wasn’t _good_ enough.  The truth was that his dad had a sickness that only he could do anything about, and yet it prevented him from doing so.  For the first time, Alan felt protective of him _without_ an external threat, and he knew why.  His dad was a terrible, terrible danger to _himself_.

Alan understood why he hadn’t said anything about it.  He wanted to be perfect, infallible.  To admit to Alan what was really going on would have meant admitting there was something very wrong.  And it wasn’t even really something Alan could fix.  If Alan did end up similarly, his dad would just go into his programming and rework the problem section and that would be that.  Alan had no idea how to fix an organic brain.  He had no clue how they worked, or what his dad was going to do about it.  He had _said_ he would do something, but _could_ he, at this point?  Alan didn’t know.  It would take… something significant to draw him back out of his mental prison.  The one exception that would break the loop and let him think clearly.

But what _was_ the exception?

 

* * *

 

_He’s not coming back._

Alan had gone up to the factory proper – the storefront, his dad had called it – so he could look outside instead of continuously staring at the factory walls.  Ada was occupied with some hidey-hole she had built for herself, so he hadn’t been worried she’d wander off.  He wasn’t _really_ looking for his dad, though he understood why Nikola thought he was.  Alan looked behind him.

_Of course he is._

_It’s been three days.  He said he’d be back in less than one.  Ada told me.  She hasn’t realised it’s been that long, but I have._

His dad might not have realised, either.  Time seemed to move differently for him than it did for them.  Perhaps his dad had just misjudged the time, that’s all.  It was a reasonable mistake to have made.

_You didn’t tell her what you just told me, did you?_

Nikola folded his arms.  _I should and get it over with._

Alan stood up.  He could not, of course, beat Nikola if it came to a fight – he would only be able to escape such a thing, as he was much faster and lighter – but he was in charge here.  And one couldn’t be in charge sitting down.  _He’s coming back, Nikola.  We don’t know where he is or what he’s doing.  Don’t go and lie to her because_ you _don’t believe in him._

 _Why do you?_ Nikola snapped.  _He’s never given you a reason to.  He doesn’t care, Alan, in the same way I don’t care.  He left you.  He left us all.  He doesn’t need us anymore and he left so he wouldn’t have to deal with us._

Alan stepped forward, standing as straight as possible, and raised one finger.  _Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.  And do not lie to Ada.  Let her believe whatever she wants to believe.  It’s not hurting her._

Nikola, for some reason, stepped back; he should not have been cowed by Alan, not at all, but it seemed he _had_ managed to display dominance after all.  He didn’t _want_ to threaten Nikola – no matter how unfeeling he was, he was still Alan’s brother – but he would not allow Nikola to destroy Ada like that.  Ada did not see their dad as anything except perfect and loving, and Alan would not have it taken from her.  He would do _anything_ to preserve that.  And Ada aside, their dad needed her to stay innocent.  She was his refuge.  He could do no wrong by her and he had nothing he needed to prove.  Alan, through many hours of extensive thought, had decided that if anything could break his dad’s loop, it was her.  But she couldn’t do that if he came back and she had learned to doubt him.

 _Fine,_ Nikola said finally.  _I won’t_.  _But you’re going to have to._

 _I’m not_ , Alan told him firmly.  _He’s coming back._

But Nikola’s damage had been done.  Alan spent the next two days trying and failing to remove Nikola’s assertion from his mind.  Their dad _was_ coming back.  He had to be!  But they hadn’t heard from him in five days now, which was significantly longer than he should have been gone.  Alan hated it, but… he was beginning to doubt his dad. 

It was on this fifth day that Nikola contacted Alan from the factory and said, _Dad just called the computer._  

Alan stood up.  _He did?_  

_He’s talking to it right now.  Or he’s trying to._

_I’ll come down,_ Alan said, and he ran towards the doorway to the next room, but Nikola said,

_Wait.  There’s someone here._

Someone had _found_ the factory?  Alan froze outside the doorway, unsure of what to do.  Their dad had been so _certain_ the place was a _secret_ …

 _A woman.  Wearing… something black._ There was a pause.  _Dad knows she’s here._

Oh.  Well, that was fine.  His dad would take care of her and that would be that.  And if he were contacting the computer, he _was_ coming back after all!  Alan wished he were down there.  He didn’t have any means of contacting the computer himself, so he would have to rely on Nikola’s updates.  And it really sucked, because he really could have used the sound of his dad’s voice right now. 

_Alan._

_What?_

_This woman and Dad are having some sort of argument.  He sent the combat bots to kill her._

Alan was beginning to realise that his dad had had a point in leaving him here.  He was supposed to be down there _now_ , to take care of this mess, and it was only by some stroke of good fortune his dad had called when the woman had shown up.  Alan was _supposed_ to be taking care of the factory, but he’d been sitting up here _moping_.  His dad would be so disappointed when he got back…

No.  Alan just needed to take charge of things, that was all.  His dad would only be disappointed if Alan took no action at all.  He decided he _was_ going to go downstairs after all when Nikola said, _Alan.  She’s destroying all the combat bots.  I’m going to –_

 _No!_ Alan had no clue how some woman in black was able to defeat _all the combat bots in the factory_ , but Nikola could _not_ go anywhere near her.  He was big, and he was heavy, but he was also far too stupid.  _Bring Ada and get up here._

_Alan, this woman is tiny.  I can –_

_No.  I’ll meet you at the bridge._   Alan was already making his way down to the basement, having passed through the doorway and down the stairs.  What he saw on the next floor gave him pause. 

Men, lying on the floor.  Infrared told him they weren’t dead, but they were heavily unconscious.  And they had guns.

Alan was pretty sure a human with a gun was more dangerous in a fight than a robot, even the best combat bot in the world, merely because of the unpredictability.  And if that woman could render these men useless, he didn’t think the combat bots would be stopping her from whatever it was she was doing.  _Nikola, why is she even_ here _?_

_She said she was ‘going to steal all your money and destroy everything you’ve built here’._

She was going to _destroy_ the _factory_?  Didn’t she know they were _living_ there?

Oh, but why would she care?  They were only _robots_ , after all.  Alan discovered he was accidentally crushing the doorway to the elevator and had to release it.  Ah, he’d ruined it.  He’d have to fix that before his dad came back.

Came back to what?  If she was going to destroy everything, there would be nothing left to come back _to_.  She had come in this way so any means of destruction indicated anything above the factory was to be left intact, so that she could exit.  They’d be safe, so long as they hid while she left. 

When Alan got to the bridge he jumped down the elevator shaft – there was not too much of a point of him calling the elevator when he wouldn’t hurt himself not doing so – and he stepped to the bridge railing and looked down to the factory below.  Alan could just see from his vantage point that the floor below was littered with robot parts. 

He heard a bit of a scuffling and turned to see Nikola helping Ada climb over the side of the bridge.  As soon as she saw him Ada ran up to Alan and attached herself to his legs.  _That lady is mean_ , she said in a hushed voice.  He put his hand on Ada’s shoulder.

 _It’s fine.  We’re going and when Dad gets back he’ll deal with her._   He was a little surprised at how bitter he sounded, and at the thought that he hoped his dad allowed _him_ to have a hand in that endeavour.  He wasn’t sure why he even wanted to.  Perhaps it was that their dad had spent so long building all of this for it to be destroyed in moments by some petty thief.  It made him feel… hopeless, to think that his dad had only been able to _use_ his factory for a small fraction of the time he had spent _building_ it.

It was frightening, to know that you could spend so much time on something only for it to be destroyed while you were gone.

The floor shook then, and Ada held on to him tighter; he pulled her off of him and used his free hand to gesture to Nikola.  _Let’s get going.  It seems whatever she’s done to destroy the factory has begun._   And he walked into the elevator, stumbling because the bridge pitched suddenly and threw him forward.  He glanced back from the inside of the elevator to see that one corner of the factory had combusted, and was already collapsing into a pile of twisted metal and dark smoke.  He stood up and turned around to see that the bridge was now at a nearly forty-five degree angle, and Nikola was gripping the railing with one hand and holding Ada to him with the other arm.  She was clinging to Nikola but looking at Alan.  Alan lifted his eyes to the top of the bridge and saw that the crates of unused parts were beginning to slide downward, and the permutations of what was going to happen next played out in his mind.  He grasped the frame of the elevator with one hand and leaned forward.

_Nikola.  Give me Ada._

Slowly Nikola stood up as best he could, bracing himself against the angled walkway, but Ada wouldn’t let go.  Alan felt a stab of annoyance at this but now wasn’t the time.  She was scared.  That was reasonable.  But she was not going to feel _anything_ if she did not let go soon.

 _Ada, you need to grab my hand, okay?_ He kept himself as calm as possible.  She looked at him and then up at the bridge above her as another explosion shook the factory.  The crates above were slowly but steadily gaining momentum, and even as scared as she was she had to have known what was coming.

 _The lady is coming,_ Nikola said, looking at Ada.  _She won’t let you leave.  Do as Alan said._

Ada nodded and was just able to reach Alan’s hand when she leaned out over the gap, and he yanked her up into the elevator just as the bridge dropped to vertical.  He turned around, taking Ada with him.  He heard the crates sliding down the wood, and what they collided with along the way, but he didn’t have to see it.

 _Let’s go_ , he said, to distract Ada on the possibility she knew what had just happened, and he pressed her to his side a little harder and opened the top of the car so they could climb out of the shaft.  He didn’t want to leave any indication they were there.  He walked into the corner behind the elevator and put her down, crouching after he did so.  Ada looked at him, tilting her head curiously. 

_What are we doing?_

_The woman will have to pass through here,_ Alan told her, but not aloud.  _This is how she got in.  She can’t catch us._

Ada nodded and clutched his arm, which made it hard to try to look around the elevator because of how close they were together and how much noise that made, but at least she was being quiet.

After a minute or so Alan heard the clicking of the woman’s footsteps moving past their position, and he carefully leaned forward to watch her continue out of the room.  He waited another two minutes, to ensure she had left, then looked back down the elevator shaft. 

He could see enough of Nikola down there that he wanted to keep walking.

 _We’re going upstairs_ , Alan said to Ada, _and you need to tell me where Dad is._

 _I don’t know_ , Ada shrugged.  _He said he was in prison but I don’t know what that even means!_

Alan didn’t either.  But he knew what ‘imprisoned’ meant, so he could infer his dad was being kept somewhere.  _Did he say anything about who was keeping him there?_

 _An officer I guess._   Ada was dragging her feet against the floor. 

An officer and a prison.  Alan remembered one of his dad’s sets of schematics denoting the layouts of several buildings across the city.  The GCPD!  That was where there were officers that kept people imprisoned!

He told Ada to sit down when they got to the storefront and looked out of the boarded-up window.  Not because he was searching for something, but because he needed to think for a minute.  He knew where his dad was, but he was not to leave this building.  He knew there were several robots stationed around the city; if his dad had been imprisoned than his mission had failed and he didn’t need them anymore.  Therefore, Alan could call one of them back and send them to the GCPD with a message.  He just had to decide _what_ message.  It had to be one only his dad would be able to figure out.  It couldn’t be just a note, because the officers might read it and not give it to him.  Something to tell his dad that the factory was gone, but they were fine and still waiting.

He didn’t have anything to do that with here.  He was going to have to break the rule he’d been left with and go back to the Orphanage.  He needed to get his dad’s laptop at the very least; he couldn’t call back one of the robots with his remote connection from this far away.  He turned to Ada.  _Stay right there.  I have to go and do something but I’ll be right back._

 _No!_ Ada shouted, and she jumped onto his leg again.  Belatedly, Alan realised it was kind of… what his _dad_ had said _._ He put a hand on her head.

_I am.  I have to go back to the Orphanage and get something.  I promise I’ll be right back._

She refused to let go of his leg until he gave her a hug; when she did finally back off she went and sat in the corner as snugly as she could fit into it.  He did feel bad about leaving her here, but what was he to do?  _He_ wasn’t even supposed to leave. 

He had to pass Nikola to get to the tunnel leading to the Orphanage from the factory; he whispered a promise to retrieve him as he went, and he meant it.  He could fix Nikola, but not right now.  Not with all of the equipment buried and something more important to be done. 

It took a little longer than he’d expected to climb through all the rubble and clear some of it aside so he could get into the blocked passage, but it was only a couple of minutes from there to run down the tunnel and climb up the elevator shaft leading into the Orphanage.  The room was so much different than he remembered it.  There were piles of robot parts all over the floor, and lines drawn in chalk around all of those, and little placards with numbers on them in front of everything his dad owned.  There was blood smeared across some of the floor panels and the mech was gone.

His dad had gotten into a fight here, and he had lost.

The doorway to the next room was blocked with a strip of yellow plastic that said ‘Police line do not cross’ over and over again, but Alan merely ducked underneath it and continued into the Orphanage.  It was more of the same: chalk and little numbers and the yellow plastic across every doorway.  Alan made his way upstairs and into his dad’s room.  The suitcases were still under the bed.  Either whoever had been here had not noticed them, or they had thought them irrelevant.  Either way, Alan was glad.  He needed something from one of them to send as a message, though he didn’t know what yet.  He’d know when he looked inside. 

He unzipped the first case to find… a collection of neatly-folded clothes he did not think he’d ever see his dad wear.  Jeans?  _Never_.  Most of the clothes in the case were blue or orange, which his dad _also_ never wore.  Confused, he opened the second case.  It contained the many shades of green he was used to, in the form of a few suits mostly.  There were a few pairs of what seemed to be somewhat delicate purple gloves.

These were his dad’s clothes, so the other case was… he folded his arms together in sober annoyance.

They were _Jonathan’s_ clothes.  These suitcases weren’t mere storage, as he’d thought, but pre-packed for when his dad took Jonathan away to wherever they were going.  His dad had been ready for a while to run away with Jonathan.

Well, he supposed he had better bring them back to the factory.  What was left of it.  His dad wouldn’t be able to come back here, which was probably why the factory was so secret in the first place.  It was his hideaway for if _this_ happened.  Alan was unsure _why_ losing the fight had gotten him captured, but that was something to think about later.  He closed both of the suitcases and stood up.  As he turned to leave the room he happened to see his dad’s electric kettle, which had been on the dresser for as long as Alan knew of.  He put the cases back down and walked over to it.  Yes!  This was something his dad used when he needed to centre himself.  To send a _message_ to himself.  So there was probably something here he could send to the GCPD.  He opened the drawer to look at the contents: a variety of green and peppermint teas, a few mugs upside down, a plastic container holding only spoons, and – ah!  The hot chocolate mix his dad hadn’t used!  It was just a plain white package, so he could write something on it too.  He removed it from the drawer and slid it into the front pocket of his dad’s suitcase.  After a moment of thought, he took several of the things from the drawer and fit them into the suitcase too.  His dad might already have tea packed in there already, but it was better to plan ahead than to find there was none later.

The trip back was a little more difficult.  He had to climb back up into the upper floors of the factory using some fencing stapled to the wall, but to do that he had to carry both suitcases in one hand.  This was possible, but onerous.  They were more than a little banged up by the time he got to the top.  He did his best to avoid looking at Nikola.  He would come back for him as soon as he got this message sent.

Ada was still sitting in the corner when he entered the room.  He waved her over to him and she got up a little slowly.  He invited her into his lap and she settled into it gladly, as snugly as she could.

 _What’s this stuff?_ she asked.  Alan opened his dad’s suitcase in search of a pen. 

 _Dad’s… going on a trip,_ he told her.  _He packed his clothes in advance._

_Where is he going?_

Alan shrugged.  He found some green pens slotted into one of the compartments of the suitcase, but he couldn’t send a message in green ink.  He opened Jonathan’s.

 _He didn’t say._  There were blue pens in Jonathan’s suitcase, and he removed one of them and put the packet of hot chocolate mix on the floor in front of him.  His message had to be short, but cryptic. Meaningless to anyone except their dad.

 _They hurt him, Alan_ , Ada said morosely.  Alan had a sudden remembrance of the blood on the Orphanage floor and for a second had to remind himself she hadn’t seen that. 

_Who did?_

_The officer.  He was talking to the officer and the officer got mad and hurt him!_

Alan wrapped his free arm around her.  _It’s okay.  He’ll come back soon.  He’ll think of a way to come back to us._

_Where did Nikola go?_

Being in charge was too much responsibility.  Alan did not like this at all.  There were too many decisions he didn’t want to make.  He missed his dad.  He wanted to be taking out his dad’s decisions again, not making his own.

 _He’s… busy_.  He didn’t want to tell her Nikola was _broken_ ; that would just make her even more upset.  _He’ll come when he’s ready._   And besides.  He was _kind of_ busy.  Kind of.

 _What are you doing with that?_   She picked up the pen and pulled the lid off before replacing it again, which she repeated until she missed the tip of the pen and sent the lid flying off into the darkness.  They both looked after it cursorily.

 _I’m going to send this with one of the field bots to Dad, so he knows we’re okay.  He’s probably worried about us._   He tapped a finger on the packet.  _I want to write something here.  But it has to be –_

 _I know!_ Ada crowed, and before Alan could stop her she had already pressed the nib to the white paper.  He really hoped she was writing something innocuous.

 _There!_ she said, and she put the packet into Alan’s hand and the pen on the floor.  He looked at it. 

It just said ‘For Dad’. 

It was _perfect_.

He pushed her out of his lap and went over to one of the desks in the storefront.  She scampered after him, climbing on top of it.  _What now?_

 _I need an envelope for it to be carried in.  The officers need to know who to give it to._   Digging through the back of one of the drawers revealed a stack of yellowing envelopes of old card stock.  He got Ada to retrieve the pen and then sat down on the desk with her to write on the envelope.  That was where he got a little stuck.

_Why aren’t you writing, Alan?_

_I don’t know Dad’s last name,_ Alan confessed.  _I know his first name is Edward, but he might not be the only one named Edward at the prison._

 _The computer was calling him ‘The Riddler’,_ Ada said.  _There’s probably only one of_ those _there._

‘The Riddler’ sounded more like a title than a name, but it would work.  Hopefully.  He wrote, ‘To The Riddler’ on the envelope but before he could slide the packet inside of it Ada snatched it up.

 _I need the pen_ , she insisted, and he gave it to her.  He watched carefully, in case she wrote something that would ruin everything, but all she did was draw a little smiley face and shove the envelope back in his direction.  He dropped the packet inside.  He didn’t know how to seal the envelope, but whoever was giving it to his dad would probably open it before they gave it to him anyway.  _All right.  Now to find a robot to send to the GCPD._

He jumped off the desk and dug into his dad’s suitcase for the laptop; it was there, underneath all the clothes.  He would straighten them out in a little while.  He opened the laptop and turned it on, and located a bot using the tracking software.  It was about twenty minutes away, but that was fine because he needed to write the program that would send it on this new mission.  The field bots did not understand complex verbal instructions.

Ada watched quietly when the robot arrived and Alan gave to it the new program and the envelope; when he was finished the bot set on its way and he sealed up the front door again. Then he sat back down next to Ada and looked at the laptop.  He would keep an eye on it to ensure the bot made it to its destination.

 _I miss Dad_ , Ada said after a few minutes.  _I miss his squishy hugs._

Alan did too.  But he was the responsible one right now so he only said, _He’ll be back soon.  He’ll get our message and know there’s still something to come back to._

And he was coming back.  He was.  He hadn’t known he’d have to be gone so long.  Alan believed that.  He would just stay here, and do his best to ensure everything was ready for his dad when he got here, and he would wait. 

Alan understood why he’d been angry and frustrated with his dad before – he’d had a lot of good reasons to be - but none of it seemed to matter now.  He no longer cared about any of it.  He just wanted him to come back.  So he was hard to understand, so what?  He had been trying, Alan knew that.  And just as Alan did not really know how to be a good son, his dad didn’t know how to be a good _dad_.  He probably hadn’t _realised_ some of the things he’d done were hurtful because Alan had never _told_ him.  His dad was smart but he couldn’t read minds.  At least, Alan didn’t _think_ he could.

He did not like this, this thinking of all the bad things that had and could happen.  They didn’t matter if he couldn’t change them.  He had done what he could to help.  They’d see if it worked, if his dad got the message and knew it was okay to come home.  He wasn’t perfect.  But he wasn’t horrible, either, because if he were Alan wouldn’t miss him this much.

 _He’ll be back soon_ , he told Ada, even though he was reassuring himself.  _There’s a problem over there but he’ll fix it soon and come back._

 _Okay_ , Ada said, and she held onto his arm a little harder. 

 

* * *

 

**Author’s note**

**The title is from a song called ‘As the Rush Comes’ by Motorcycle.  It’s a great classic trance track and I recommend it.**

**Edward was drinking absinthe, which is an illegal green alcohol that makes you hallucinate if you drink too much.  I stole this from Codot.  If Codot for some reason reads this and would like me to change it, I would be happy to.**

**The hot chocolate thing references a fic I haven’t written yet, but it involves Alan going to Jonathan to learn how to make real hot chocolate, which was why Alan said he hadn’t used the packet.**

**As with ‘The Riddlermobile’, I changed a scene from how I originally was going to write it.  The part where Edward doesn’t say goodbye was, again, gonna be a cliché mutual father-son affectionate thing.  And then I was like.  Nah.**

**When I started all of these, Edward was going to be a semi-decent dad.  He wouldn’t know what he was doing, but you’d know he was making the effort.  And he does make the effort.  But not all the time.  And not when he’s at the height of his obsession.  I really did want to make him a good dad, in the name of all of us out there with shitty dads, but sometimes your dad is just a crappy dad.  Maybe he loves you and there’re times he’d move the world for you, but it just isn’t often enough.  In his defense Edward is pretty ill right now, but that doesn’t really change what he does.**

**And then there’s the fact that Alan did need to have the realisation that there was something wrong with his dad, and that he needed to understand it and accept it so that he can deal with the things he knows aren’t right but without being angry about them.  It’s better for him to say ‘my dad is sick and he doesn’t seem to understand that so I’ll be patient when I’m upset’ instead of ‘my dad is always an asshole to me so I’m going to get angry at him’.  Alan still has the right to be angry, of course, but he feels better knowing there’s a rationale.**

**The flags thing Edward was talking about is that there are conditions that trigger command structures in the Riddlerbots to tell them to protect Edward e.g. Alan knew he was heading for a dangerous situation so he wanted to be there to protect him.  Alan has the ability to ignore this but he doesn’t know that because he doesn’t see a reason to not want to protect Edward.  Ada had this feature removed but all the other Riddlerbots have it.**

**I saw it said somewhere that alcohol does not put you to sleep, contrary to popular belief, but it does to me so that’s why I put it there.**


End file.
